


tainted

by reese_puff_s



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Cole is dead, Gen, Self Indulgent Sickfic, Sickfic, emeto warning, not ship!!! do not post as ship!! this is father son
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:35:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25451002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reese_puff_s/pseuds/reese_puff_s
Summary: connor absolutely, positively will (not) take hank’s advice this time when he’s told to stop sticking things into his mouth.(title changed, was DBH Oneshots)
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor
Comments: 8
Kudos: 39





	tainted

**Author's Note:**

> please give me prompts i am so happy to take them

Connor could have sworn he was alright five minutes ago. They’d been at a crime scene, analyzing evidence like he always did. One sample and...the thirium on his shirt and dripping from his chin spoke for itself. He let out a groan of pain, eyes firmly shut to keep the lights of a patrol car out.

Patrol car?

Connor opened his eyes just a bit to see he was sitting outside, Gavin next to him with a begrudging look on his face. “Haaaaank?” Connor slurred mechanically, trying and failing to do a diagnostic. The files came back corrupted time and time again. The only things he could register were how goddamn bright it was and how much he ached. Ached? In short, Connor felt like shit, which was unusual.

“‘S Haaaank?” He tried again, looking up at Gavin as a fresh wave of discomfort washed over him. “‘S dad?” Connor mumbled to himself absentmindedly, head lolling to the side. “Daaaad!” Connor’s head snapped up, voice louder but less clear than before. The action sent frantic notifications dancing across his vision, and Gavin reached quickly to guide Connor’s head over his lap as yet another round of thirium came up. The sound was eerily human in a way that made Gavin flinch in sympathy. “C’mon now tin can...” He tried in a quiet voice, pulling Connor around for a moment until the android was successfully leaning against him. His fans whirred, LED cycling a lazy red over and over again.

“Someone call Hank!” Gavin yelled to the techs milling about, pointing to Connor. “NOW, YOU ASSHOLES!” He growled, wrapping an arm around Connor in what he validated as not wanting Hank to kill him. Really, Connor had been naught but kind, and he was vulnerable. Shivering and whimpering and perhaps even overheating a bit. Connor looked like a child curled into his side, and it tugged hard at Gavin’s heart. 

Within minutes they greying lieutenant was sprinting over to them, dropping in front of Connor in a panic. “Hey, Con, Connie, look at me!” Hank held Connor’s face in his hands, listening to the quiet murmur he let out at the warm contact and cursing under his breath. He ripped his jacket off, ignoring the frigid January air and wrapping it around Connor. “Can he stand?” Hank leveled his gaze to Gavin, who shook his head. With a sigh and a grumble, Hank gently got his hands under Connor’s knees and around his shoulders and scooped him up like a child.

Connor twitched in his arms, letting out a pitifully overheating computer-ish whine. “‘S daaad?” He asked hopefully, eyes opening ever so slightly. His LED flashed an overjoyed blue for a moment before spinning back to red, and the android let out a giggle. “Daaaad!” He cheered, hot face against Hank’s neck.

“Dad, yeah.” Hank mumbled, holding Connor close to him. He was too focused on the way the android was limp in his arms, the way his artificial skin burned with heat even though both jackets. Connor’s head lolled back and Hank snapped his gaze down, seeing his chocolate brown eyes flutter shut. Shit. He’d passed out.

Captain Fowler was at the scene, and Hank called to him urgently. “Fowler! Open the goddamn car, Connor’s out.” The captain took one look at the limp android and the thirium covering his shirt and scrambled to whisk the car door open, allowing Hank to set Connor gently into the backseat. The android curled in on himself, arms wrapped around his stomach like a sick child. It made the greying detective’s heart clench in his chest with what could be called affection.

Hank leaned into the car, wiping the last traces of thirium from Connor’s lip and brushing his hair back from his face gently. “Hold on son, we’re going home and you can sleep or enter rest mode or whatever stuck up shit you call it. Just stay right there, okay?” No response; but he knew Connor had heard him by the way his LED cycled to yellow and back to red. “Get some extra blue blood shit.” Hank muttered, tucking his jacket around the android and shutting the door. 

Once they’d pulled into the drive of the house, Connor seemed a bit more lucid, arms still wrapped tightly around himself. “Hank,” He said in a quiet, pitiful whimper, not daring to move. “Hurts.” Hank’s head immediately snapped back to look at him, and if Connor was human his face would be flushed green. As it were he was colored a pale blue all over, and his head lay flat against the seat as he panted in what was probably pain. “Shit, kid, you okay?” 

Connor pushed himself up suddenly, clapping a hand over his mouth. Drips of deep blue thirium leaked from between his fingers as he fumbled dizzily with the door handle, finally shoving it open and falling to his knees on the driveway as a frankly nauseatingly human wave of sick flew from his mouth. Hot, sick, embarassed tears- saline, usually for cleaning his eyes- ran down Connor’s cheeks as he rocked back onto his heels, keeping his hands firmly on the floor as his head- technically his gyroscope- spun wildly. His breathing shallowed, artificial stomach still cramping.

Hank came to kneel next to him, ignoring the thirium on the ground but dutifully avoiding it as he rested one hand on the back of Connor’s neck and the other on his side. “Deep breaths, Con. It’s okay, thirium evaporates. I know you’re sick, it’s okay, we can go get you cleaned up and cooled down.” The lieutenant soothed quietly, rubbing gentle circles on Connor’s too-warm skin and wiping the thirium that dripped down his chin with the edge of his sleeve. “You wanna get up now?”

Connor nodded slowly as not to mess with his head, sniffling and sitting back to lean on Hank. His brown eyes were slightly glazed, face splotchy and blue from where he’d been crying. “Hank...” He whispered, voice modulator crackly from all the vomiting. “‘M tired. Feel like shit.”

Hank laughed, wrapping his arm around Connor and gently slipping the other under his knees. The whole plastimetal frame thing meant he wasn’t too heavy, luckily. “Yeah kid. You look it, too.” The detective slithered one hand from under Connor to unlock the door, pushing past the boisterous St. Bernard and taking Connor not to the couch, but to his bedroom. This confused the already feverish- no, overheating, the Lieutenant could almost hear Connor saying it- android, as he never slept in Hank’s bedroom.

“Quiet, kid. You’re sick, you’re sleeping with me. Lets me monitor you easier.” Hank shut him up before Connor got a word in edgewise, settling the android on the bed and starting to take off his shoes. Despite his earlier protest, Connor was quiet now, almost worryingly so. He’s just exhausted, Hank reasoned, pulling the younger detective’s jacket and tie off. Connor looked startlingly human like this, tired and sick and needy. Like Cole, a bit.

“Con? Hey, Con, look at me buddy.” Hank looked up to see his eyes closed and his LED cycling a lazy red, cheeks a feverish blue. Letting out a sigh, Hank put a hand behind Connor and eased him onto his side, tugging the blankets from under him to cocoon him in warmth. Connor seemed securely asleep, so Hank rationed it was safe to lean down and press a kiss to his forehead. “Get some rest, son. I’ll be in the living room.” He whispered before turning off the lights and walking out, leaving the door cracked. True to his word Hank settled in his recliner and flipped through stations for a bit before settling on a movie. “Fast and Furious, huh?”

Roughly six hours later, according to his internal processors, Connor awoke from rest mode. He felt at least a bit better, though his diagnostics and analytics were still offline and his gyroscope was still a bit off. His memory of the past day was hazy at best. He pushed the blankets off and sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes as he took in his surroundings. “Hank’s room..” Connor mumbled confusedly, pushing himself up to his feet. The floor was unexpectedly cold, making him almost hiss at the sensation. His sensitivity felt like it was dialed to eleven. 

Slowly, carefully, Connor made his way to the living room, seeing Hank in his recliner. “H-Hank?” He called quietly, hand resting on the wall to steady him. Maybe Hank was asleep. Connor thought to himself, turning to go back to bed until he heard rustling. “Kid? That you?” Connor whipped his head back around, face flushed a dark, embarassed blue. “Hank!” 

“You’re up early.” The detective quipped, standing and stretching before stepping over Sumo and walking over to Connor. “How you feeling, kid?” Connor thought on the question for a moment. “Not...On the verge of shutdown.” Hank let out a short laugh, resting his hand on Connor’s forehead. “Temp’s down. Think you might just be alright, son. There’s cold and warm thirium in the kitchen, if you’re up to it.”

“I think...I would just like to lay down.” Connor’s hands had started to shake a bit [MECHANICAL MALFUNCTION: BIOCOMPONENT B26A IS EXPERIENCING INSTA-] He dismissed the notification. “Out here.” The android made a brief nod toward the sofa, and Hank seemed to get the idea, wrapping a gentle arm around Connor’s waist to keep him steady and guiding him to the sofa. The lieutenant fussed about him, grabbing a blanket Connor hadn’t even noticed and tucking it in around him until he looked almost as comfortable as he felt. “T-Thank you, Lieutenant.”

Hank groaned, slapping a hand over his face irritability. Sarcasm. Connor’s system detected. “C’mon now, kid, it’s Hank or even...I don’t know, fuckin’ pops or dad or something. Not Lieutenant, I get enough of that shit at work.” Connor could’ve spluttered, a distinctly human thing. He sat up at just about mach speed, processors going haywire.

[GYROSCOPE MALFUNCTION: PLEASE RECLINE INTO A HORIZONTAL POSITION.]  
[THIRIUM PRESSURE RISING. 2%..4%..6%..]

Hank could practically see the dizziness in Connor’s face, spreading a hand over his chest and pushing him down onto the sofa firmly. “Con! Look at me, jackass! You look like you’re gonna fucking hurl, again, calm down.” He could feel the android’s chest heaving under his hand, “cooling his internal biocomponents”. At the moment, it seemed more like a calming move, and after a minute or two the panic seeped away from Connor’s eyes and the kid just looked beat.

“Alright, son...” Hank paused, sliding his hand down Connor’s chest and under his legs, sitting down and resting the android’s calves in his lap. “Get some rest.” Connor tried his damned best to keep his eyes open, but what with Hank gently tucking his blanket tighter around him and the weariness that filled his frame, who could blame him for sleeping?

Just before he surrendered to sleep, a quiet few words slipped out. “Night...dad.”


End file.
